One never forgets one's first
by ROSSELLA1
Summary: Post Hannibal, spoilers. In an attempt to overcome his addiction, Will Graham and his wife take a trip to Italy, little expecting that an old friend might just decide to help.
1. Chapter 1

Ch. 1

By ROSSELLA1

Note: I do not own the Hannibal Lecter tetralogy or any of the characters. This is based off a combination of the books and the movies. Everything happened the same in the books, except that Will and Lecter's relationship is like the one in the movies. And this takes place fourteen years after Red Dragon (or one year after the end of Hannibal).Oh, and I'm looking for someone to beta this fic. I'm going to go look at the beta profiles but if anyone's interested, let me know.

The amber liquid glistened in its bottle as the moonlight washed over it.

'Don't do this. You're stronger than this.' Graham thought, staring at the bottle on the sink in front of him.

He'd promised himself that this afternoon's shot would be his last. He'd even gone so far as to pour most of his many bottles down the drain before leaving the house to fish. But a day in the sun and the surf had taken its toll on Will's body. He'd fought off the tiredness as long as he could, knowing that the moment he fell asleep the images would fill his head. But no one could stay awake forever and eventually-

_Do you dream much, Will?_

The memory caused Will to gasp as his stomach churned. That was it. He couldn't take anymore. He needed an anodyne to the pain. Scooping up the bottle he- No! he couldn't let his family down. Not his beautiful wife who had stayed with him even after the incident with Dolarhyde and the turmoil that came afterwards. Nor the young man he considered a son, who had only in the past year or so slipped into calling him Dad. Tilting it upside down, he poured its contents down the drain. Now if only he could keep his will this time.

…..

Molly pulled up to the house that night with some reservations. Usually she tried to make it home before nine; it was an unspoken agreement that she and Will had. Despite Will's best efforts, he usually couldn't hold back from having that one last drink before bed. If she made it home before the temptation overwhelmed him, she could sometimes distract him before he succumbed. One less drink… it was something. Not much, but something.

Today, however, one customer had stayed in the store right up until closing and it had been 9:30 before Molly had been able to start on home. Now in the driveway, she turned the car off and sat there a moment. Breathing in deeply she tried to dissemble. Tried to pretend that coming home to a drunk husband didn't bother her nearly as much as it did. After all, it wasn't as if Will needed anymore problems on his shoulders. She understood how difficult it was. God knew she had been in and out of counseling throughout the years!

'But you did it without drinking.' Molly quickly pushed the thought aside.

She knew that Will had had more to deal with than she and Willy; Hobbs, Lecter, Dolarhyde, and then Lecter again! She tried to keep these thoughts in mind. But a part of her knew that while she could sympathize, she could never understand. Still, Will was her husband and she would help him through the rough patches as best she could. And at least Willy didn't have to see it now that he was at college. Getting out of the car, she walked briskly to the front door.

"Hello?" Molly called tentatively. She knew that the guilt and pain he felt over the Dolarhyde case nearly overwhelmed Will and she always wondered (although she'd never say it aloud) if one day she'd come home to find that Will had decided to take the easy way out. She was relieved when her husband came out of the bedroom to meet her.

"Hey…" Will sighed, leaning down to kiss her.

"Mmm…" Molly pulled back startled. "No alcohol?" Usually she could taste it on him and often smell it but not today.

Will positively beamed, clearly ecstatic at the improvement. "Not since this afternoon."

Molly didn't allow herself to feel too much hope. There had been similar incidents in the past and all had been short lived improvements. Still, she couldn't hold back a smile. "That's great! You're doing good!" She brought her hand up to caress the side of his face, holding back a wince at the ridges on his cheek. Plastic surgery after plastic surgery had taken away what Will called the "Picasso-look", but the scars were still fairly obvious and every time she saw her husband she thought of the murderer.

His face took on a more serious look. "I plan on keeping it up this time."

"Of course." Molly didn't want to discourage him.

"No, I mean really. I've been thinking about things and…" He took a deep breath. "I think we should get away for a while."

The suddenness of it caused her to pull back. "Away?"

"Yeah, you know, away. Alone. A vacation for just the two of us."

"I guess it would be nice…" She hesitated. They'd tried this approach before, going away, living in a new house, out of sight out of mind. It worked for a while, but Will always ended up relapsing within a month.

As if reading her mind, Will grimaced. "I know, I know. I can't promise it'll work. But, I need to do something." A pause. "Look, we'll try something new. Before we leave, you can throw out any alcohol you find. We'll go away for a bit, and when we come back, I'll start…I'll start seeing a psychiatrist about this."

It was then that she realized just how desperate he was. AA meetings? Sure. Motivational books? He'd read every one out there. But never before had he considered seeing someone. She'd pushed it, but he always came up with some reason not to. He was smarter than most shrinks. He'd heard everything before. Molly knew that the real reason was that, after trusting Lecter, he had developed a mistrust of psychiatrists in general. But he would never say that and she would never bring it up. Now, however, he was willing to put that aside. Maybe…she hardly dared to hope… but maybe he'd succ…probably not. But it was at least her duty to support him.

"Alright." She decided. "Where should we go?"

The look on his face was radiant. "Why don't you pick?"

"Hmm…" Molly smiled back. "How about Italy?"


	2. Chapter 2

Ch. 2

By ROSSELLA1

Note: I do not own the Hannibal Lecter tetralogy or any of the characters. 

The travel plans came together quickly; once they had decided upon the course of action, neither of them wanted to delay. Molly had Evelyn watch the shop for a couple of weeks and Will called a neighboring boy, telling him to feed the dogs. They got their currency changed, booked their seats and hotel room, and within a week, Willy was bidding them farewell at the airport.

"You sure you don't want to go, sport?" Will asked. Forcing what seemed to be a sincere smile. "Bet we could manage to book you a seat on the next flight out." He loved spending time with his son. But he wasn't sure if he could recuperate if he felt the constant pressure to hide his addiction.

"Nah." The younger man chuckled. "I'd miss too much work and I've got finals coming up. Besides, you two need a vacation; to be alone. I'd just get in the way."

Will searched Willy's eyes, but only saw honest good will. He smiled back. He had tried to keep his drinking from Willy and, while Will suspected that Willy knew something was up, clearly Willy didn't realize the full extent of his problems. "Well, if you change your mind just give us a call." An announcement came on for their flight. "Okay, we've got to go, but we'll call you after we land. Soon as we get settled into the hotel."

"Don't forget." Willy pulled the two of them into a hug. "And watch out for my Mom!" He warned, only half-jokingly. Willy could forgive Will for the incident with Dolarhyde; something that wasn't his fault, as Willy had told him. But that didn't mean that the people _around_ Will could be trusted and one never knew when Will might let his guard down. The incident with Dolarhyde had only increased Willy's hyper vigilance.

'No amount of therapy could ever change that.' Will thought, sadly. "Don't worry." He said aloud. "We'll be back in time for Christmas."

They said their last goodbyes, headed towards the plane, and then were up in the air. After an hour or so, they both fell asleep; Molly first and Will second. When they awoke, they were in beautiful Sardegna. Far away from the concerns of their everyday life. Far away from Dolarhyde and far away from the memories of Hannibal Lecter.

…..

The psychiatrist, Dr. Hannibal Lecter was currently relaxing at a small café in Cagliari, sipping on espresso and watching planes come in and take off. He wished he could risk going to Fierenze again, but he doubted Dr. Fell would be welcome there. This though…this was far enough away that the panic would not have lingered. And on the chance it did…well, Africa's proximity provided an easy and effective escape. If he couldn't have Firenze, then Sardegna was the next best thing. Sardegna was very near perfect. Sardegna was-

"What are you thinking?" A voice interrupted his train of thought.

Letting out a slow breath through his nose, he turned a false smile on the woman sitting across from him. "Nothing, my dear." But for the present company Sardegna would be akin to Heaven.

"Are you certain? You look pensive."

"Yes." He gave her a small, reassuring smile.

Clarice shrugged. "Alright then."

"You know, I think I'll take a walk. Feel like being alone for a bit." He rose, patting Clarice on the shoulder. "I'll see you back at the flat."

With a sigh, he set off down the street. Things with Clarice had gone along swimmingly. Too well, to tell the truth. When it had become clear that his little bird was too strong to allow him to find a place for Mischa in her, he had settled for breaking her down so that he was in complete control. If he couldn't have his sister back, at least he could create a masterpiece. He had done that, only to find that complete dominance over one's sole companion got boring after a couple of years. It wasn't that Clarice didn't have her own thoughts and feelings; she did and was more than willing to share them. However, those would change as soon as Hannibal expressed displeasure at them. She never bothered to argue or justify her point of view anymore; she'd just loose it as soon as he opened his mouth. There was absolutely no use for any conversation. And monotony meant death to an intellectual mind. No mental stimulations except for those he found for himself. That would have been fine for a short while, but in the long run it made for a boring relationship. Hannibal had considered killing her once, for a whole week in Nicaragua. But Clarice was still his creation and he didn't bear her enough ill will to destroy her. Not yet, at least.

With a heavy sigh, he brushed aside a street vendor trying to sell him a granita, careful not to make eye contact with her or any of the other vendors that preyed on the vulnerable foreigners that took their word that they were receiving a deal. He headed towards the airport so that he could watch the tourists get off their planes and enter his world. At the very least, studying them would provide an interesting source of entertainment. At most, they could relieve his sense of frustration.


	3. Chapter 3

Ch. 3

By ROSSELLA1

Note: I do not own the Hannibal Lecter tetralogy or any of the characters. 

"Got everything?" Will asked his wife, as she closed the luggage compartment above their seat.

"Everything up here." She replied.

He gave a tense smile. "Let's go." They followed the rest of their fellow passengers out of the plane and into the crowded airport. "I'll get the bags."

It was an excuse to get some time alone. He hadn't had a drink in three days and even that one had been extremely small; monitored by Molly to take away the worst symptoms of withdrawal. His hands were shaky, thoughts jumpy, and the plane ride had been the longest sleep he had had in days. He needed a moment to gather himself. Will had known that this wouldn't be easy, but knowing it and experiencing it were two completely different things. The symptoms always occurred every time he tried to quit but this time he was determined to ride it out. At least the hallucinations hadn't set in this time. Not yet.

"After you're done, let's get something to eat. I'm starving." Molly was saying.

Will nodded, briskly, and took off towards the luggage rack.

…..

Gazing over the railing at the plethora of people that were grabbing their luggage, the Doctor was focused on only one. A small smile graced his lips, as the blonde stalked away from his wife (without kissing her, Hannibal noted with an unholy amount of glee) and towards the luggage rack. At first he hadn't been sure it was truly Will. But it hadn't taken long. There were few who knew Graham as well as Lecter did, and the little quirks in movements that belonged only to his Will, gave the ex-agent away. Here was the only other living work of art Hannibal had made, come unwittingly to his creator. The Doctor had considered the possibility that the FBI had discovered Clarice and his' whereabouts and had sent Graham to smoke them out, but Lecter quickly dismissed that idea; if Molly had remained with Will, then Graham wouldn't have been foolish enough to test her patience by actually doing his old job. No, it appeared as if his eideteker and the lovely Molly had decided to take a lovely, little trip.

Oh, how Hannibal longed to go down there and greet his former protégé! But no; not yet. That wouldn't be wise. However, if he followed (staying his distance of course)…well, that could be quite fun. Hmm… Will had scooped up the bags, but had made no move to rejoin his wife. Instead he was leaning against a wall. Hannibal tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes so he could see better. Neither time nor the Dragon had been kind to Will's features. Oh they were still handsome! Lovely, make no mistake. The skin was just as tan as it had been when Lecter had last clapped eyes on it. The blonde hair, clean and kept just short enough to not have to worry about it falling in the younger man's eyes. And Lecter couldn't see the man's eyes as well as he wished but he was sure that they were the same clear, heartbreakingly expressive blue they had always been. But now there was a pale slash down the middle of Will's handsome face and an indentation that could have passed for a birth mark if one hadn't known Will before the incident with the Dragon. Lecter felt a brief pang of anger at the Dolarhyde for marring William's face, but quickly brushed it away; rage would get Hannibal nowhere. The Dragon was already dead and plastic surgery had prevented him from ruining the Doctor's canvas. Hannibal would simply have to alter the overall effect so that prying eyes would not immediately be drawn to Dolarhyde's rude brush strokes. Now, to get back to the task at hand. It was not just the scars that caught Lecter's attention. Will had put on some weight, replacing some muscle with fat. There was a slight stubble that suggested his eideteker had more pressing matters on his mind than his appearance. The Will Graham Hannibal had groomed would never have let his features go to such waste. Not unless something was dreadfully, dreadfully wrong. This conjecture was upheld by the fact that Will had closed his eyes and was breathing deeply and slowly, as if trying to focus his thoughts on more pleasant matters than those that were currently on his mind. Interesting. 14 years was more than enough time for Will to recover from the Dolarhyde incident and the Doctor hadn't heard of Graham helping with any other cases.

Dr. Lecter's smile widened. Here was some mental stimulation; just when the monotony had started to become overbearing! Sometimes he thought God was good after all! Why was his young friend so troubled? Hannibal was determined to find out. Slipping his sunglasses on and pulling his hat down over his forehead, he headed towards the escalator.

…..

After Will had gotten himself under control enough to be sure he wouldn't snap at his wife for something that wasn't her fault, he rejoined Molly. "So what are you in the mood for?" He said, chuckling at how she jumped when he came up behind her.

"Ooh, make some noise when you walk! Hmm…" She appeared to consider it, in that air that meant she had already decided but didn't want to seem too eager. "Well, since we're in Italy, how about pizza?"

"You got it." Will's appetite was so far off kilter that nearly anything he tried would probably taste like shit.

They got inline at a nearby pizzeria. As they read the menu, Molly blushed. "I feel stupid for not thinking of this before, but I can't read or speak Italian!" She whispered.

"Don't worry about it." Will assured her, rolling his eyes. Before he had discovered his mentor's true nature, Lecter and Graham had often gone out to eat when working too late. Lecter, being a foodie, had always insisted on visiting only the best and most authentic of restaurants. Somewhere along the line, Will had picked up the basics of different languages; he could probably get by in at least ten countries.

"But-"

"What do you want?" Will asked impatiently, as they came to the front of the line and were greeted by the cashier.

"Just plain and a water, but I don't-"

"Prendiamo due l'acque e una pizza con formaggio. Per qui." Will ordered effortlessly. He paid, got their waters, and then they picked a nearby table to wait for their food.

"I didn't know you spoke Italian." Molly said, sipping her water.

Will shrugged. "Took it in high school." A lie, but she didn't need to know the truth; it wouldn't do for their vacation to get off to a bad start.

…..

Hannibal ordered a small drink and took a seat in the corner; a place where the couple wouldn't see him unless searching. With his sunglasses, hat, and plastic surgeries, he doubted even Will would recognize him unless up close; still, best not to tempt fate.

The Doctor was both amused and angered when Will lied to Molly about the source of his Italian. If his young eideteker couldn't share his joys and sorrows with his wife, then what was the point of them remaining married? When they had consulted with each other before their falling out, Will had often expressed a frustration with not being able to share things with his wife. Apparently, Mrs. Graham had very little skill at concealing her distaste for discussions about the horrors Will faced and Will, ever the gentleman, was reluctant to push. It was clear that little had changed. Molly obviously hadn't been taking care of her (_Her_! How he loathed to share Will with the woman!) husband. While Hannibal grudgingly admitted to himself that Will shared some of the blame, surely some of it also rested on the wife who sat by and allowed her husband to descend into this…this…despicable state of being! Will's remarkable self-control masked his symptoms from his beautiful wife, who was prattling away on some inane topic, but it was obvious to a keener observer that Will had been at the bottle again. Not for the past couple of days; but before that, the young man had been drinking on and off for over a year. His hands were clutching the cup as if it was his lifeline and Hannibal wouldn't be surprised if Will tipped the table over with the vigor that the ex-agent was jiggling his leg. Dr. Lecter shook his head in dissatisfaction. It saddened Hannibal to think of such a brilliant mind, demolished by alcohol. If the woman had just allowed Will to talk about his difficulties, perhaps… But at least Will was attempting to quit now. Perhaps he would need some help, but if Graham had the proper motivation, Hannibal had no doubt the task could be accomplished. All the ex-agent would need was the right person to help him through this, the Doctor thought with a slow smirk.

Molly was finally cut off by the arrival of their food and Will stopped pretending to be interested in what she was saying, as they both started to devour the greasy, unhealthy food. It was all Hannibal could do not to look away; he could have provided Will with a much more satisfying dinner. The good Doctor gave a sigh. Oh, well; at least he could be thankful that it wasn't the American version of the food. And if (as Hannibal thought) Molly's method of helping her husband failed, the Doctor would be more than happy to lend his assistance in all areas of Graham's life.


	4. Chapter 4

Ch. 4

By ROSSELLA1

Note: I do not own the Hannibal Lecter tetralogy or any of the characters. By the way, remember that Clarice has been living under Lecter's thumb for four years, so she's going to be completely submissive/reliant on Lecter and have a lot less morals.

Hannibal sipped his drink quietly in the corner, allowing the ex-agent and his wife to finish their meal in peace. He still sat there after they had left, counting slowly to himself and following them with his eyes. '_Uno, due, tre, quattro, cinque, sei, sette, otto, nove, dieci.' _And then he rose and discreetly tailed the young couple through the crowd. He followed them out of the airport and through the streets. As luck had it, they were staying in a hotel relatively close by.

'_The Holiday Inn.' _The Doctor noted, shaking his head. '_How…tasteless of young William to travel to another country to stay in an American hotel.'_

Dr. Lecter didn't bother to get the room number; that would involve going inside the hotel and possibly encountering the ex-Agent Graham before Hannibal's protégé was ready for a reunion. Instead, he kept walking. Heading towards his flat and his lady.

…..

"Hannibal!" Clarice greeted her partner, rising from the couch as he entered. She pulled him into an embrace. "I was beginning to worry." It wasn't as if he had been gone long, but lately she had begun to sense a certain discontent. A restlessness about him and she couldn't pinpoint the cause. She had attempted to assuage his unhappiness by being more attentive (she'd be damned if her relationship fell apart because of her), but there had been no change. For the first time in years, she was starting to become unsure of whether he would come back.

"Forgive me, my dear." The Doctor chuckled, and Clarice allowed herself to relax. He was in a much better mood than when he had left. He gave her a kiss and hung his coat and hat on the coat hanger. "I ran into an old friend." She tilted her head to the side in a questioning manner."We may very well have a guest soon."

"A guest?"

"Yes. You remember Will Graham?"

A lovely smirk came over her face. "Yes. I do." Clarice had been introduced to Will after Lecter's recent escape; an attempt of Crawford's to draw his old pet back into the game by dangling a damsel in apparent distress in Graham's face. Graham had slammed the door in their faces. The smirk was replaced by a frown. "He's here?"

"On vacation." Hannibal assured, lifting her hand to his cheek. "He is unaware of us."

"But wouldn't it be dangerous to make our presence known?" Sometimes she didn't understand Hannibal's train of thought; she tried to keep up with him but she had to admit that he was just on a higher level of thinking than she was. At least he was patient with her, rather than mocking her as he had so many years ago.

"Certainly." Hannibal nodded lovingly.

Clarice waited, then when he didn't speak up, "Are you going to explain that?"

"No, I think I'll let you work that out by yourself."

When it became clear he wasn't going to say anything else, she gave an exasperated sigh. "Sometimes I don't know what to make of you."

The Doctor tilted his head to the side. "At the very least, you'll always be able to say I'm not boring."

Clarice huffed. "Well, you can be as interesting as you want. Just as long as you don't get us arrested."

"Relax, my dear." Dr. Lecter replied, pulling her into a tight embrace. "That is something I would never allow to happen."

"Well, that's good." Clarice smiled into his chest. Things were finally back to normal. Now, she just hoped they would stay that way.

…..

Molly loved Italy. She loved the food. She loved the sights. She loved the melodious language and she repeatedly told her husband that she loved him for suggesting the place. Will might have loved all of those things, as well, if he could concentrate on them rather than on the headache he had. He'd taken twice the recommended dose of ibuprofen but it had only dulled the migraine down a couple of notches. He figured it wouldn't be good to add those to the list of his addictions, so he didn't bother to take any more.

"Oh, Will! Look at the street vendors!" Molly squealed, looking out the windows of their hotel room.

Will fought the urge to groan. "Yes, what about them?"

"Well…they're selling things."

"They'll do that."

She laughed at herself. "I'm just not used to seeing them."

"We don't have a whole lot in Marathon." He agreed, absentmindedly.

Molly glanced back at him. "What's wrong with you? This is a new place, we're on vacation!" Her face fell, as she suddenly remembered the other reason they were here. "Are you…"

"I just have a headache, Molly." He snapped. Then he swallowed. "I'm sorry." Will turned towards her. "I just…my head hurt, the pain killers aren't working. I didn't mean to say it like that." His wife just nodded and came to sit down next to him, laying a cool palm over his forehead. Graham felt a pang of guilt; he didn't deserve her. "Look," He sighed, "I'd probably feel better if I got some sleep. Why don't you take the dictionary and go for a walk. You can buy some souvenirs, see the sights, and come back and tell me all about it."

Molly frowned. "You're sure you wouldn't mind? You don't want me to wait until you feel up to it?"

Will forced a laugh. "No. We'll be here long enough for me to get a look at things. I'll go for a walk later." As an afterthought he added, "We can do it together then." Reaching up to stroke her hair, he smiled sadly. "There's no reason you should have to stay here with me so grumpy."

"Well, if you're sure." She gave him a hesitant look and then leaned down to kiss him. "We'll get you through this, baby. We survived Dolarhyde we can survive this."

He sensed the doubt behind her words, but appreciated them all the same. "Thanks."

…..

Hannibal and Clarice have not talked much, since we last saw them. In the early years of their relationship, they talked quite a bit. But as time went on, their views became so fused that it was no longer necessary to discuss things verbally. Instead, Clarice began to prepare dinner (the Doctor trusted her with that now; he hadn't always but over the years she had picked up enough cooking skills to satisfy his tastes) and Dr. Lecter had settled down to read A Study in Scarlet. While he had read more artistically satisfying literature, he enjoyed reading of Sherlock Holmes when thinking of his eideteker. There were several differences between the fictional character and the Doctor's Will. But there were also several similarities and as the Doctor read it he could superimpose the image of Graham over the more traditional image of Rathbone's Holmes. Both so young. So brilliant. So driven. Well, Will wasn't so driven now, if his addiction was anything to go by, the Doctor mused. But the addiction could be dealt with. Hannibal smiled at the thought, placing a single finger to his chin as he considered how he would eradicate that particular remnant of the Dragon, and return his painting to its former beauty.


	5. Chapter 5

Ch. 5

By ROSSELLA1

Note: I do not own the Hannibal Lecter tetralogy or any of the characters. Oh, and I'm still looking for a beta, if anyone's interested.

Will had fallen asleep before Molly had gotten back and was therefore awake after she had gone to sleep. For about an hour after he'd woken up, he'd tried to get back to sleep. After he was unsuccessful at that, he had gone into the bathroom to read a book (door closed so that he wouldn't wake Molly). But while the headache was gone, his hands had started shaking again, making it difficult to concentrate. Finally, giving up hope on being able to find peace in the hotel room, Will had left a note on the bureau, taken his key, cellphone, and wallet, and had gone to see what Cagliari's nightlife had to offer.

Currently he was walking down the sidewalk of a street, at around ten at night. It wasn't crowded but there were still some people out and still some shops open. It was a beautiful city and the air was nice and clear. Will could smell the salt water and concentrated on breathing it in and out. It wasn't easy. Italy was famous for its food and its wine. It seemed like every other shop he passed was a bar or a restaurant that served alcohol. In reality, there probably weren't as many as he thought, but they were all he could think about. His hands were still shaking, his heart pounding fast, his thoughts erratic. The alcoholic in Will knew that all he'd have to do would have one small drink to make those symptoms lessen. He knew that he should just go back to the hotel, away from temptation, but another part of him told him that he'd have to be able to walk past the bars without going inside sooner or later; he might as well start working on it now.

…..

Hannibal was pleased when he saw his fellow night owl exit the hotel. The Doctor had set out again after dinner, despite Clarice's protests. In a way, he pitied her; she truly loved him in a way that he could never love her back. But that pity wasn't enough to outweigh the desire to see his eideteker again. Lecter had patiently waited, sitting on a bench across the street from the hotel, his fedora pulled over his forehead. Sunglasses would be too conspicuous, but he'd just have to make sure not to get too close. He had been waiting for two hours, 12 minutes, and thirty five seconds and had been beginning to wonder whether Will had decided to stay in for the night, when the man in question exited the hotel, walking at a rather rapid pace.

Now, as a soft smile graced the Doctor's lips, Hannibal followed the man, at a safe distance. His superior eyesight allowed him to notice how Will's gaze drifted longingly towards the places that sold alcohol. But he didn't enter and for that the Doctor gave him credit. It couldn't be easy for the young William to go so long without alcohol and still resist the temptation. Perhaps Hannibal's help would not be needed in that area after all. What a pity. The Doctor would have to find some other way to mark the ex-agent as his own.

Or perhaps not. Lecter tilted his head to the side as he observed Will ducking into a small café. While not known for their alcoholic beverages, most carried some wine, if only to enhance their drinks. Still, best not to judge before hearing the boy's order. Allowing twenty seconds to pass, Dr. Lecter moved towards the door. He could see through the glass, that his protégé was seated at a small table in the corner, his back against the wall.

Hmm… should he risk being noticed? The Doctor stepped to the side and waited until a couple ducked in. As the door opened, Graham's eyes rose to greet them and then dropped back to the table. No. Hannibal might be able to escape notice out here, but if he entered, Will would surely recognize his old mentor and the eideteker wasn't ready for that yet. With a sigh, Dr. Lecter turned around and headed back towards the hotel. Grabbing an advertisement on the way in, he folded it in half and approached the front desk.

"Mi scusa." He said to the tired night receptionist. "Ho necesito dare al' mio amico. Si chiama Will Graham."

"Si." The woman snatched it from his hand, typed the name into the computer, and filed it into the respective room number's mailbox.

'323'. Dr. Lecter noted, and then tipped his hat to the receptionist and left. He thought about going back to the restaurant, to make sure his eideteker got back safe, but decided against it. Two times in one day was enough; he didn't want things to end before they began.

.….

Will ordered two espressi and had the waiter mix some wine into one. Just enough to take away the shakes. Anymore and Molly would notice. Any less and he wouldn't be able to get through the night without going out for another drink and that one wouldn't be nearly as controlled. He drank the virgin one second; trying to cover the taste of alcohol on his breath. It wasn't that strong. He didn't think she'd notice. Will hated himself for thinking like this; deceiving his wife. But he just couldn't do it cold turkey. He could do it close. A drink, a bit smaller every day until it was done. But he couldn't just quit all at once. After he was finished, he walked around for a bit. Letting his head clear and the taste of alcohol leave his mouth, before he went back to the room.


	6. Chapter 6

Ch. 6

By ROSSELLA1

Note: I do not own the Hannibal Lecter tetralogy or any of the characters. 

Molly woke up at seven, smiled at her husband's sleeping form, got dressed and ordered breakfast in bed for the two of them. And then found the note. Immediately, her good mood dampened. She went to the bed and tried to smell his breath. She didn't smell anything but the typical morning smell, but that didn't mean he hadn't drunk anything the night before. Mints would have taken care of that and their own taste faded before she had woken up. Tentatively, she initiated a slow kiss.

"Mmm…" Will's lips started to respond before his eyes fluttered open. "Hey. What a way to wake up."

Molly couldn't resist a grin. "Well we are in one of the most romantic countries on Earth." She tried to play coy. "I…uh…saw your note. You went out last night?" She could see from his eyes that he knew what she was really asking and a sense of shame came over her. After so many years of marriage, she should be able to do him the courtesy of asking outright.

"Yeah." Will answered. "I couldn't get back to sleep so I figured, why not?"

"Did…uh…you go anywhere…interesting?"

"A small café."

And Molly relaxed. He wasn't likely to get any alcohol at a coffee shop. "Was it any good?"

"Yeah, it was good. Not what I'm used to, but good."

"Maybe we could grab something there today."

Will shot her a grin and Molly felt her heart thump as she realized it wasn't completely genuine. "Sure."

…..

"You came in late last night." Clarice said as she dropped into a chair at the kitchen table.

Hannibal didn't glance up from making the omelets. "Yes."

"You went to see Will Graham."

"Yes."

"Why?" Her voice was sharper than she intended and her lover glanced up at her. Turning her eyes away from the maroon ones. "I just don't understand it, Hannibal. We're happy, right?" She knew it wasn't entirely true and the charming smile he flashed her as a reply, confirmed it. "I just don't understand why you'd risk _our_ freedom over a game."

Hannibal sighed. "Clarice…"

"I understand that you want revenge. He put you away, I get that. You deserve revenge and I-"

"This-"

"No, listen!" Clarice interrupted. "I'll help you get it. But what I don't understand is how you're going to do it without calling attention to us?" Hannibal turned down the heat on the stove so he could give her his full attention. "I know you want me to work it out myself and I have been thinking about it, but I don't see how you're going to do it. You'll need to take care of his wife, too, and then there's the stepson who will make sure that the case is looked into by the FBI. They'll think of you immediately and we'll have to go far away and stay low. Our faces will be on the front of every paper and if they catch a glimpse of us in a security camera around here we'll need collagen injections, too. Is it really worth all that?" She took a deep breath and let it out slowly through her nose.

It took her lover exactly a minute to answer. Clarice suspected that he was letting her gather herself for conversation and while she appreciated the thought behind the gesture she wished he would fill the silence; it wasn't often that she argued with him. But she had been up half the night waiting for Hannibal to come home and trying to understand why killing this man was worth risking their freedom.

"Clarice." Hannibal said when he finally spoke. "I understand your concern and I am glad that you voiced it. However, it is unnecessary. First, it is important to understand that our freedom is one of the most important things in the world to me and that I would not jeopardize it unnecessarily." He paused, as if letting the words sink in. "Second, it is equally important that you realize that it is not for revenge purposes that I seek Will Graham."

Clarice felt as if he had slapped her across the face. "But I thought-"  
>"My dear," He interrupted calmly, "you have read the files on the relationship between Will Graham and I, have you not?"<p>

_Relationship._ The word echoed in her mind. "Yes."

"Then you know that we were friends before our little…fall out."

"Of course, but I'd have thought that would change after you killed each other." The pit in her stomach was growing.

"Oh, it did! For a while. But then Will came to see me in the asylum. The Dolarhyde incident. We began talking again, like old times. I still wasn't ready to let it go then." The Doctor gave a small, wistful smile and a brief shake of his head. "He had after all deprived me of my freedom. I could stand the arrows and bullets, you see; I had, after all, stabbed him. But sending me off to the asylum where I had such limited resources!" Hannibal sighed. "That was too much. So, as I'm sure you know, I managed to procure Will's address and slip it to Mr. Dolarhyde. I didn't intend for Will to die, you must understand; he's my masterpiece. A living victim!" Clarice swallowed as she saw a proud look come into her lover's eyes; the last she had seen that look it had been directed at her. Over a year ago. "I merely intended for the Dragon to get his wife and son out of the way so that we'd be even again; Will could never be free of me if I had killed his family. But of course, things did not go as planned. Will returned before Dolarhyde was killed, and Dolarhyde hurt Will as well. As a result, Will has sunk into a depressed state of alcoholism. The Dragon has left his scars on him in ways that I never intended to happen. So you see, my dear, this isn't about revenge. It's about helping out an old friend and reclaiming what's mine." Hannibal finished.

"Oh. Okay." Was all she could say.

A brief flash of annoyance crossed his eyes, as if Clarice had disappointed him, and then it was gone. "Yes." He replied, as he turned back towards the stove and their breakfast. "I knew you'd see it my way."

"So, how are we going to do it?"

"That, my lamb, is a long and interesting discussion."


	7. Chapter 7

Ch. 7

By ROSSELLA1

Note: I do not own the Hannibal Lecter tetralogy or any of the characters. 

Will shivered, pulling his jacket tighter around him. After breakfast Molly had wanted to start touring the city. Personally, he would rather have just relaxed and walked around where the locals typically went, but he figured that after lying to her about the drink, the least he could do was indulge her. Now, he was standing in the Roman Amphitheater amongst a crowd of other tourists, half listening to the guide talk about gruesome gladiator battles.

'Sure.' Will thought, 'This was a great idea, kid. Go to Italy so we can escape the memories of serial killers by hearing about gladiators.' Letting his eyes wander around the Amphitheater, Will wasn't impressed. It was an old building. Architecturally speaking, he supposed it was beautiful, but with all the bloodshed, he couldn't help but be repulsed. When at long last the lecture was over, Will pulled Molly away from the group "Hey. I'm hungry. Why don't we get an early lunch?"

"Already?" Her eyes drifted longingly to where the tour guide was answering questions the rest of the group had.

"Well, you have to admit," Will forced a chuckle, "breakfast wasn't all that big. Look, if you're not hungry you could stay with the group while I go grab something."

"You sure?" Molly answered just a bit too fast. "You wouldn't have the bus."

"Yeah." It did bother Will a bit; after all they had gone on this vacation to help work things out together. But Graham couldn't take the atmosphere here anymore. "It's not too long of a walk. I'll walk back to town, grab something, and then take a taxi back to the hotel."

"I wouldn't mind going with you if you want to wait a bit…"

"No. I'm starving."

"Well, okay. I guess I'll see you back at the hotel then." She kissed him goodbye and waited until he had started walking away to rejoin the group.

…..

The corners of Hannibal's mouth twitched as he heard Will break away from his tour group and wife and start for town. The Doctor had been worried he might lose his eideteker for a couple of hours when the couple had gone off in the bus. Lecter had followed in his jaguar, and was careful to park a decent distance away from the bus and remain in the car for five minutes after the group departed.

Afterwards, he had waited until another bus arrived and mingled with that group. The Doctor had restrained himself from watching Will and settled for tuning his ears in for Will's or Molly's voice. Now, Dr. Lecter turned to observe the young man walking in the direction of town. He allowed Will to gain a two minutes head start and then headed off towards the Jag, shaking his head; his eideteker made things all too easy. It almost took all the fun out of the game.

…..

Will heard the car behind him and moved to the side of the road so that it could pass him; he was surprised when it pulled to a stop in front of him. Tensing, Will slid his hand into his pocket and brought it to rest on his pocket knife, as the door opened.

'Relax.' He told himself. 'Probably just someone wondering if I need a ride.' Aloud he said. "Can I help you with anything?"

…..

The Doctor gave a small chuckle and climbed out, slipping his harpy out of his sleeve and into his palm. "I was actually wondering if you needed a lift?" He watched the emotions flicker across the boy's face. First shock, then fear, then panic, as Will pulled his hand out of his pocket and started to back away. Lecter didn't give Graham the chance to open the knife. The Doctor was on his eideteker within a second, his hand twisting the pocket knife from the ex-agent's hand and his own knife at Will's throat. "Easy, Will. Is this any way to great an old friend?"

"Fuck you!" Came the boy's astute growl, as Will tried to bring his foot up between Hannibal's legs and elbow into his stomach.

"So you want it rough, do you, Will?" Hannibal sighed.

None of his other victims had ever been such trouble. Oh well, he'd learned from the first time and come prepared. Slipping his one hand off from Will, he reached into his pocket. Before Will had a chance to see the handkerchief, the Doctor had it pressed against Graham's face. The boy struggled a bit, and then slowly went limp in his arms. The doctor glanced up and down the road. No one was coming. Putting his knife and handkerchief away, Hannibal lowered Will to the ground as he had on that night so long ago. Lecter paused to brush a blonde lock from the man's forehead. Then the Doctor was all business. He took a moment to pat his captive down and then opened the trunk and took out the handcuffs. Will probably wouldn't wake up until they were safe at home. Still, it never hurt to be too careful. Hannibal cuffed the man's hands behind his back and gently lifted him into the trunk. Then, climbing back into the car, the Doctor drove off towards the coast. It was an excellent time to visit his house in Mozambique.


	8. Chapter 8

Ch. 8

By ROSSELLA1

Note: I do not own the Hannibal Lecter tetralogy or any of the characters. 

"Ugh…" Will's head spun as he drifted into consciousness. What the hell had happened? His heart sank as he considered the possibility that he had given in to a moment of weakness and drank till he passed out. If that was true, Molly probably would leave him, maybe had already left, and he'd be-

"You're awake! Good, I was beginning to get lonely." A familiar voice chimed out. Will attempted to lunge at the man ,sitting composed in the chair next to him, but was held back by what felt like chains binding his wrists and ankles to the bed. Dr. Lecter tsked, "Will, Will! Is that any way to treat your host?"

"Host my ass, what the hell did you do to me?" Will tilted his head forward, trying to see his abdomen. He didn't feel any pain but that could be because of some drug. It was all coming back to him now. The Amphitheatre. Walking back to the city. The jag.

"Relax, my dear Will. "Lecter gave him a comforting smile and leaned forward to place a hand on Graham's shoulder. "I assure you that you are not missing any body parts. I simply chloroformed you and brought you to my house."

"And chained me to the bed." Will growled, twisting his wrists to try to find some leeway.

"Yes. That too. I hope you don't mind; I was worried you'd cause another fight like the one in my study."

"Yeah, well, you started that one."

Dr. Lecter shrugged. "You were going to arrest me, WIlliam. I did what I had to do. I'm sorry that I had to hurt you but I do not regret the act in and of itself. Now, why don't we have a nice little chat? Just like old times?"

Will turned his head away. "No thanks."

For once the Doctor's calm faltered and he leaped forward, jerking Will's chin up to look at him. "Now that is rude, Will. I went through all this trouble just to help you and you will show me respect!" He paused, giving Will's head a small shake to emphasize his words. "Do we understand each other?" Will gave as much of a nod as he could manage; no one knew better than he did just how dangerous Lecter could be. Was he willing to risk his life over a few small quips? Graham wasn't sure yet but it couldn't hurt to hold his tongue until he was. Suddenly, composed once more, Lecter let him go and sat back in his chair. "Good. Now, I'm sure you have questions; you've always been such a curious boy. Why don't we start there?"

"Okay." Will swallowed, thinking. "You said you wanted to help me. With what? And couldn't you do it without me being chained to a bed?"

The Doctor gave him a patient smile that an adult gave to a small child when he or she asked why dessert came after dinner. "Well, I've already told you why you need to be restrained. I assure you that if I deem it safe in the future to allow you some freedom I will; you'll have to be on your best behavior, no staying up after bedtime, yeah?" His expression became more serious. "As for what I'm here to help you with, I thought that would be obvious: with your addiction of course."

Graham blinked, his mouth opening several times before he could actually speak. "How long have you been stalking me?" He gave himself credit for how composed he managed to keep his voice.

Dr. Lecter frowned. "Stalking is such an ugly word. I prefer to think of it as looking after an old, very dear friend."  
>Will rolled his eyes. "Alright. How long have you been 'looking after' me?"<p>

"A few days. It was my good fortune to spot you and your wife departing the plane."

'Molly!' Thank God he'd left without her; but it wasn't like Lecter to leave loose ends… "You know then that there will be people that will worry about us if we don't check in with them. If we don't call-"

"I'm presuming you're talking about Willy?" Lecter reached out and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry. That's all been taken care of."

"If you've hurt him-"Will strained at his chains, even though he knew it was useless.

"Him? No. I have no plans to call on him in the immediate future. Your wife will be making a call very soon. She may have already made it. Telling him-"  
>"Where the fuck is she, you son of a bitch?" Will lunged forward again<p>

"Will." The Doctor replied briskly, "I am trying to remain civil, but you are making it very difficult. Now if can stay polite I will tell you about Molly. But if you cannot I will leave you here…chained up and alone…until you calm down, do you understand?"

It killed him to give in but…he had to know. "Yes, Dr. Lecter. I understand."

"Perfect. Now, I believe you asked where she was. Currently, she is enjoying the company of a rather close friend of mine."

…..

"I don't understand…" The woman said, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. "Why are you doing this?"

Clarice felt a small stab of pity. "Because I love him."

Molly's voice turned pleading. Her handcuffed hands reaching out as if to establish some connection. "But he hurt you. I read it in the papers. Everyone thinks you're dead, but he kidnapped you didn't he?"

"I'm going to dial a number." Clarice fished the woman's cellphone out of her purse, careful not to let the hand holding the gun to Mrs. Graham's head waver. It wouldn't do to ruin Hannibal's plans on a stupid mistake. "Your son's going to answer. You're going to speak to him calmly. Crying will not do any good. If he suspects something, I will have to fly to America and put a bullet in his head. Hannibal found the address just in case, so it would only be a matter of hours." This was said in a flat, emotionless voice. 'Let her feel no hope.' Clarice thought. 'It would be cruel and dangerous.' "What you are going to tell him is that you and your husband are enjoying your vacation. That you got to see the Amphitheatre and that the food here is delicious. Then you are going to tell him that your cellphone battery is low and that you forgot your charger at home. You will call him when you can find a place that sells disposable cell phones, so as to keep from running up a high hotel bill. Then you are going to tell him you have to leave to see a play and you will hang up. Nothing else. No references to the dog he doesn't have or to the aunt who has been dead for years, do you understand?"

"Are you scared of him? Is that it? I can-"

"Do you understand?" Clarice repeated, pity vanishing from her.

"Yes."

"Good." Clarice found the son's number in the woman's contacts. "Are you ready?"

The woman took a shaky breath and nodded. Clarice hit send, speaker, and placed the phone down between them. It rang eight times and then the machine came on. Clarice preferred it this way. If the woman had actually spoken to her son, she might have broken up. Instead, the woman waited for the beep, repeated the message that Clarice had told her to say (adding that she was sorry that she had missed him, but that was fine; without it the message would have sounded wooden). After she was finished, Clarice powered the phone off.

"There." The woman snapped bitterly, her voice a mix of anger and despair. "I did what you wanted."

"Yes, you did." Clarice replied, and pulled the trigger, wincing as the blood sprayed in her face.

The silencer muffled the sound, so there was no need to worry about the neighbors hearing. Calmly, Clarice placed the gun next to the phone and wiped the blood out of her face. Then, opening one of the large suitcases she had, she wrestled the woman's body and cellphone into it. She cleaned herself and the room up, loaded both cases into the trunk of her Mustang (she had insisted on buying a replacement after her other had been left behind), and drove off to the docks. A boat ride later and one suitcase lighter, she joined her lover and his captive at their home in beautiful Africa.


	9. Chapter 9

Ch. 9

By ROSSELLA1

Note: I do not own the Hannibal Lecter tetralogy or any of the characters. Oh, and still looking for a beta if anyone's interested. I did message some people in the beta section but they all either said no or didn't get back to me.

Long ago, a client had left his beach house in Maputo to one of Hannibal's other identities. The beach house itself was nothing special; a ground floor, an upper level, an attic, and a basement. But it was accompanied by 50 acres of land which had its own private boat house and dock. It wasn't an ideal location, but it was handy in times such as these. After Hannibal had escaped, one of the first things he took care of was opening up the property again. Now it was kept nice and neat. The couple used it about once a year and it was to here that Clarice arrived about a day and a half after she killed Molly Graham.

Clarice pulled the boat into the dock and loaded her bag into a small golf cart that was left waiting for her at the boat house. She drove up to the main house and let herself in through the back door. No voice called out to greet her but she could hear and smell vegetables sizzling in the kitchen so she headed in that direction.

"Clarice." Hannibal flashed her a smile as she entered. "Just in time. I wasn't sure if you'd be here so I put in some extra."

"Mmm…" She came up next to him and kissed his cheek appreciatively. "Smells good. What're you making?"

The Doctor frowned. "Vegetable stir-fry with a sesame sauce and rice on the side. Not the most delicious of foods, but our guest insisted on a vegetarian meal."

Clarice snorted. "And you acquiesced."

"But of course. He is our guest after all." Dr. Lecter reminded her, giving a small reproachful look at her slip in manners.

Clarice pretended not to notice. "So when do I get to meet him?" She had to school her expression not to reflect jealousy when Hannibal's lips curved upward.

"He's resting right now. Or at least that's what I told him to do." The Doctor shook his head fondly. "Knowing him, he's probably planning how to escape. Naughty boy. Dinner should be done in fifteen minutes. Hmm…" Hannibal glanced longingly at the dining room table, then back at Clarice. "Why don't you take over, while I get Will ready for supper? All you need to do is stir."

She gave a brief nod and he handed over the spoon. Then, '_without bothering to say goodbye_', she noted he left the room.

…..

"Will?" Hannibal said softly, his voice a couple of notches above a whisper. His eideteker didn't respond, but tensed ever so slightly. "I know you're awake. You can't fool _me,_ Will."

"Mmm…I'm busy pretending I'm asleep. It's rude to interrupt. I thought you detested rudeness."

"So I do," Hannibal smiled at the boy's quick response and sat on the edge of the bed, so that they could talk face to face, "but I fear that if I allow you to continue pretending, you'll miss supper."

Will's stomach growled. "What did you make?"  
>"Ah, ah, ah! You never ask!" The Doctor remonstrated.<p>

"It spoils the surprise." Will finished, rolling his eyes. "Can you at least tell me if It's…vegetarian?"

"But of course. As our guest, it would be impolite to refuse a request." Hannibal schooled his expression into a sterner one. "However, I must warn you that not all meals will be such in the future. After all, I will need you to trust me for this little…enterprise." The younger man opened his mouth but apparently thought better of whatever he was about to say, and closed it. "Now," the Doctor stood up again and moved to the foot of the bed, "I'm going to remove these chains first and then tie your legs together. There'll be enough rope so that you can walk, but that'll be all. Then I'll move to your hands. Likewise, they'll be unchained from the bed, but handcuffed together. Do you understand?" The young man nodded. "Good. Should at any point you choose to resist, I have a Taser and I will not hesitate to use it." Will gave another nod. "Then let's proceed."

It took about five minutes to get Will unchained and then secured. Thankfully, the boy did not resist, although Hannibal hadn't thought he would; Will would wait until the opportune moment. Once ready, the Doctor guided his guest into the room where their dinner was waiting.

…..

The first thing Will noticed was that they were not alone. A woman rose from her spot at the table. Her hair was a straw-blonde and her eyes like two diamonds of ice. By the ever so slight narrowing of them and the tightening of her jaw, Will gathered that she already didn't like him. That was fine. Whoever she was, she wasn't restrained, ergo she wasn't here by force. Will didn't like her either.

"Sit down, my dear." Hannibal nodded his head towards the woman. "I'll make the introductions when our guest is seated."

Graham allowed himself to be guided into one of the chairs at the ornately set table. His legs were tied against the legs and his one arm to the arm of the chair. The other was left free and he felt a slight relief at the small freedom of being able to feed himself.

"Who is she?" Will gestured towards the woman as soon as Hannibal had sat down in his own chair.

The Doctor frowned. Probably at Will's tone, but he didn't say anything about it. "Will, may I introduce you to my lovely wife, Clarice? Clarice, this is Will Graham. I believe you two met, briefly?" Will's eyes flickered from Hannibal to the woman in front of him, in shock.

"It's a pleasure." Clarice said in a polite but tense tone.

Will took a closer look at the woman's features. Graham had seen the News coverage of the incident and, like most, he had assumed that Clarice had been eaten by either the pigs or Doctor Lecter. If he remembered correctly, Clarice had deceived Lecter, at least once, and Will knew how much the Doctor hated liars. That, combined with the fact that she had already given Lecter all the information he asked for (quite easily, Will might add), had convinced Will that the Doctor would have soon tired of her. Still, Will didn't see a reason why Lecter would lie about the woman's identity, and peering into her face, Will noticed some gunpowder in her cheek. A feature that stood out, even in the grainy images in the newspaper.

He realized that they were both waiting for him to say something. "Everyone thinks you're dead."

"Yes. That's how I prefer it." Starling laughed, mirthlessly. She'd changed a lot from the timid, obedient youth who had stood with Crawford on his front porch.

The exchange seemed to satisfy Lecter. "Well, now that the pleasantries are dispensed with, let us eat."

But if Clarice was still alive, then that meant that she was the friend and…"Where's Molly?"

A genuine smile now touched Starling's lips. "You didn't tell him, Dear?" She quickly glanced at Hannibal and then back at Will.

A cold sweat started to run down Will's back as Hannibal gave an almost imperceptible tilt of his head. "I was waiting for the correct time, Clarice."

"Of course. I didn't realize." Clarice's face reconstructed itself into the picture of humility.

"Where. The. Hell. Is. My. Wife?" Will gritted out, his hand gripping his fork tightly. It the closest thing to a weapon at the table, but with enough force...

"Will." Lecter laid a hand on Will's shoulder, which Will jerked away from. "I told you that this is about helping-"

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU HAVE YOUR BITCH DO TO HER!" He shrieked. Molly couldn't be dead…He wouldn't believe it…Even though there was no reason for Hannibal to keep her alive and the Doctor had never liked…

"Now, Will." The Doctor narrowed his eyes. "I know you're upset, but please refrain from-"

The lesson in manners was too much. Will swung his hand with the fork, prongs forward, towards the Doctor's face. The feel of it grazing fresh before his hand being knocked away. A movement off to the side. A sharp pain on the side of his head and then…


	10. Chapter 10

Ch. 10

By ROSSELLA1

Note: I do not own the Hannibal Lecter tetralogy or any of the characters. Oh, and I know that seven might seem a bit late for dinner, but remember that they've been being kept busy lately so their schedule is slightly off kilter. Also, they're coming from Europe, where dinner is often served later than in America. 

Hannibal started forward, clearing the debris of the lamp out of Will's hair. "Was that really necessary?" He sighed, sparing a sideways glance at his defender.

"He was attacking you." Clarice pointed out, placing what was left of the lamp back on the table in the corner. Honestly, what did Hannibal see in this man? Any interesting aspects of Graham had long sense dried up; his actions and movements were predictable and common. "And he called me a bitch."

"Because we killed his wife." Dr. Lecter replied, pulling Will's chair out from the table and undoing their captive's bindings. "You'll soon find out that Will doesn't love by halves; once he's attached to something or someone, he holds on to that fondness for quite a long time. Unfortunately, even though the late Mrs. Graham was unworthy of his affections, he did lover her." Hannibal paused in the conversation to examine the wound. Apparently, he found it superficial, and lifted the man into his arms. "I need to clean it." He explained and gestured with his head towards the hallway.

Clarice took it as an invitation to follow her partner into the spare bedroom, snagging the first aid kit out of the bathroom along the way. "So I'm not allowed to defend myself or you, anymore?"

"Thank you, Clarice." Hannibal smiled, taking the proffered kit. "You're allowed to defend yourself and me, of course. I simply ask that you don't use unnecessary force." Opening the container, he removed a wipe and cleaned out the small cut. "Will had only one hand free and a fork is hardly a lethal weapon."

"It could be." She smirked, remembering the time in Paris.

They shared a small laugh. "It certainly could. But he was in no position to use it in so deadly a manner as you were. Not to mention that Will was significantly more justified in his anger." The Doctor gave her a pointed look.

"He was a really bad butler! And it's not like we could just fire him! I think he was beginning to realize that the meat wasn't always bought at the grocery store."

"As do I, but killing one's wife is slightly more provocative then burning the roast."

"It was the third time that week and the ninth that month!" Clarice tried to suppress a smile.

"Besides the point." Hannibal gave a small shake, tossing the memory aside and placed a bandage over the wound. "Will is not going to be a submissive captive. He has an abnormally strong mind, even though it's slightly downtrodden at the moment. He's been through a lot in the past decade. You can get used to these little outbursts."

"So if you knew that Molly's death was going to have this effect on Graham, why did you have me kill her? I thought you wanted him to get better." Clarice briefly considered the possibility that Hannibal wanted to pit her against Graham; his two former FBI agents, seeing who would turn out the stronger. But she quickly dismissed the idea. She was Hannibal's lover and Will was his…friend, for want of a better term. The could never be on equal footing.

"Because, my dear," Dr. Lecter gestured to the chains at the foot of the bed, as he took the ones near the arms, "would you get his feet? In the long run, it'll be helpful for him to be away from her influence. Molly was always a bit…inattentive to Will's psychological needs. She didn't understand or want to understand what he faced every day. Will felt bound to be loyal to her because she was his wife and he felt that her dissatisfaction with his job was his fault. Once Will gets over grieving, he will begin to remember the bad times and allow himself to realize that she was not always the perfect wife." They were finished chaining the man up and they now stood, facing each other. "Now, it might be slightly cold by now, but if we heat it up and pick any pieces of plaster out, I believe we can have a reasonably pleasant dinner."

…..

They finished their dinner, managing to avoid further conversation of the unpleasant situation that had occurred, and then Clarice had headed off to bed. 'The sun and surf did take its toll on one.' Hannibal mused, cleaning up the dishes.

The Doctor glanced at the clock; it was eight in the evening. Will should be awake by now and wishing he'd had some dinner before he'd lashed out. Hannibal switched the stove on, warming up the leftovers while he finished cleaning up. When he was finished and steam was rising from the vegetables and rice, the Doctor made a plate for Will and poured a glass of water. Placing them both on a tray with utensils, he carried them towards the guest bedroom. He knocked out of courtesy and then entered.

As he thought, Will was awake. Staring off towards the sole window in the room, on the far right wall. He didn't shift when Hannibal entered. "Good evening, Will." No reply. "The view is quite lovely out that window. Perhaps sometime I'll move you closer." Nothing. "You haven't eaten in a while. I brought you some food. Leftovers from dinner but they should still taste good."

"Molly's dead." The voice was empty, matter of fact. As if Will were informing Hannibal of some casual thing that had happened the other day.

The Doctor placed the tray on the night stand and took a seat on the edge of the bed. "Yes." There was no point in denying it.

"You killed her." Still no emotion, but the boy turned his head to meet Hannibal's gaze.

"I told Clarice to do so, yes."

"Why?" Here Will's voice broke slightly and Hannibal caught a flash of pain.

"She was in the way. She wasn't helping your recovery-"

"Yes, she was!" Will interrupted, slightly out of breath. "We were on vacation so that I could quit drinking. We were going to start over and-"

"And she was going to be more sensitive? Listen to you talk about your nightmares and comfort you rather than be disgusted when you described being in Hobbs head? Listen to you when you described how you felt when I slid the stiletto into you? Was _she_ going to change, as well?"

Will shook his head, his eyes wide and brimmed with tears. "You don't know anything about her!"

"On the contrary, I believe you told me quite a lot."

A sob. "So this is my fault."

"Of course not; I didn't say that."

"But I let you into our lives and if I hadn't…" The boy broke off, drawing in a deep shuddering breath.

Hannibal slid his hand forward onto his protégé's cheek, brushing a tear away with his thumb. Will hadn't let his guard down since the night after Hobbs. The Doctor remembered the young Agent, sobbing helplessly into Hannibal's chest as he told his mentor about the man they'd been searching for. Now Will wasn't nearly as open (and Hannibal wasn't sure if it was openness or just apathy as to whether he lived or died) but it was a start.

"Will," The Doctor said gently, "I know this isn't easy but you need to trust me that this'll be good in the long run."

"Go to Hell!" The young man hissed, spitting into Hannibal's hand.

With a sigh the Doctor removed it and wiped his hand on the sheet. He'd have to talk to Will about how he was expected to behave but for now, it was best to let the boy grieve. "Will, you have been through a lot. You need your strength. Why don't you eat something and we can talk more in the morning?"

"That's your solution? You kill my wife and you think feeding me dinner makes up for it?" Will growled.

"Of course not." Hannibal replied, calmly. "I'm merely suggesting that you eat and then rest. It's a matter of keeping you alive."  
>"Forget it. I'm not hungry."<p>

The Doctor sighed. "Of course you are. You haven't eaten in several hours."

"I don't care. I don't want dinner." Will turned his head to the side, as if signaling that the conversation was over. The ex-agent's stomach promptly growled, eliciting a slight blush but nothing else.

Trying to keep the patronizing tone out of his voice the Doctor lifted the tray into his lap. "Do you know what happens if one does not eat? The person dies."

Will snorted. "I know. I don't care."

"I think you do. You're upset now because of your wife's death; you're in mourning. But sooner or later you'll realize that just because her life's over doesn't mean yours has to be." A sigh. "If nothing else, you'll decide you need to avenge her death. It will be hard to do that without any strength."

Finally the young man turned back. Will appeared to be considering this. "You'd never let me get close enough."

"And you consider that a good excuse to not even bother to try?" Hannibal held back a smirk of triumph as he saw the grudging acquiescence in the boy's eyes. "Very good." He lifted a forkful of food and held it near Will's mouth.

"I could feed myself." Will complained, but ate it anyway.

"Yes, but we will be saving that ordeal for another day." Hannibal reloaded the fork and lifted the water, with a small smile. They were making progress. Slow, infinitesimal progress, but still progress.


End file.
